It’s the beginning of the school week, and this four-year-old with the platinum blonde curls and intensely serious blue eyes is very concerned about the stiff black brace strapped on my right hand.

“My wrist hurts me sometimes,” I explain as I kneel down to her eye level. “This brace keeps it still so it doesn’t hurt as much.”

She takes this bit of information in solemnly, then pronounces with confidence, “It will be better tomorrow. I’ll pray for you, and Jesus will make it better.” And she turns and trots off down the hall to her classroom.

As I straighten up and return to my work at the photocopier in the teachers’ lounge, I massage my right thumb absently, letting out my breath in a long sigh.

“Tendonitis,” the hand and wrist specialist had said. Inflamed tendons in the thumb and wrist, leading all the way up to the elbow, caused by “repetitive movement strain.”

“This is not just going to go away,” he pronounced. “A simple surgery is your best option…”

Surgery is the last thing I want to do. So I ask my students for volunteers to write on the board for me. I try to remember to open doorknobs with my left hand.

Sometimes it doesn’t bother me for days or weeks. But then I pick up a pencil I dropped on the floor, and a shooting pain stops me in my tracks for a few agonizing seconds. And with the pain comes the all-too familiar discouragement.

“It’s never going to heal,” I think glumly. “It’s been a year and a half already, and so many people have prayed for me, but nothing’s changed. This is my reality now.”

The next time I see my bold little prayer warrior, her eyes hone in on my black wrist brace. “I prayed for your hand – is it better now?” she asks eagerly.

What can I say? How can I tell her that I’ve stopped praying? How can I tell her that I’ve stopped believing God will heal me?

I feel like the father of the boy with seizures in Mark 9, who brings his son to Jesus for healing. “If you are able to do anything…” When Jesus confronts the man’s lack of faith, immediately he calls out “I believe – help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:22-24, NRSV).

Those big blue eyes of my four-year-old prayer warrior are still looking up at me, expectantly. “Did Jesus heal it?”

“Thank you so much for praying for me!” I tell her, giving her a hug. “I know Jesus is healing it.”

With a satisfied smile, she runs off. And a tiny spark of hope is growing in my heart. Because Jesus IS healing me – starting with my heart.

What about you? Has your heart been disappointed? Have you felt that God isn’t answering your prayers? Have you given up hope? Ask God to begin healing your heart today. He will. But you have to make that choice.

Going Vertical!

MJ

“I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.” Psalm 130:5

It was maybe three years ago. Maybe four. I had just received a Christmas gift from one of my students – aromatherapy peppermint oil bath salts – and I had been looking forward to using them over the holiday break.

But before I had a chance to open the jar, I loaned it to someone who said she’d had a hard week at work and needed to relax. Though she earnestly promised to return the bath salts, she never did, even after I asked several times.

Resigning myself to it being an unintentional “gift”, though disappointed, I soon forgot about it.

But every once in awhile, when I think of taking a relaxing soak in the bathtub, I remember the jar of bath salts I never got to try. “I hope she’s enjoying them,” I think darkly.

Now, examining this new gift, I realize that I haven’t forgiven for this incident. It seems like such an insignificant thing. But bitterness can be subtle. And unforgiveness can start small.

Laughing, I open the new jar of bath salts and snif the “ocean breeze” scent. “Ok, ok,” I tell my roommate. “I give in. I’ll forgive her. It’s time to let it go.”

My roommate gave me the best gift this Christmas. The opportunity to forgive. The chance to start this new year with a lighter heart. A heart with a bit less bitterness and a bit more grace. What a gift.

Are there any “small things” that you may be holding on to, “little things” that you need to forgive? Start this new year with a clean slate, a FRESH START!

Going Vertical!
MJ

Work at getting along with each other and with God. …Keep a sharp eye out for weeds of bitter discontent. A thistle or two gone to seed can ruin a whole garden in no time. (Hebrews 12:14-15, MSG)

“What color is el cordero?” I ask the class. Hands shoot up eagerly. These kids know their colors in Spanish. “Yes, Joshua?”

“Blanco!” shouts Joshua confidently.

“Muy bien! Very good. And who can tell me about the lamb? What does it feel like?”

“It’s SUAVE! Soft!” grins Kyleigh, stroking the stuffed animal.

“That’s right! Did you know that Jesus is called ‘El Cordero de Dios’ – the Lamb of God?” Ten pairs of eyes are fixed on me and my white stuffed lamb. “In Bible times, if people did something wrong, they would give a lamb as a gift to God, to tell Him they were sorry. And they would ask God to forgive them. And do you think God forgave them?”

“Yes!” chorus the preschoolers.

“But when Jesus came, He was called the ‘Lamb of God’. And He took away all the bad things we’ve done when He died on the cross and came to life again. So now if we do something wrong, we just have to tell Jesus we’re sorry and ask Him to forgive us. And does God forgive us?”

“YES!”

“Aren’t you glad you don’t have to drag a big smelly sheep to church every time you do something wrong?”

Charlotte giggles as Caleb makes a bleating sound like a lamb. “Baa! Baa!”

An eerie stillness met me in the semi-dark apartment as I tentatively pushed the door open. Maybe my roommate had come home early from her babysitting job and forgotten to close the front door…

But then I saw that the back door was open too. Something was not right.

“Anyone here?” Peeking around corners, throwing open closet doors, jabbing behind the shower curtain, I explored every room in the house. But when I saw the clothes strewn on the floor in my bedroom, boxes pulled out from the closet, and my jewelry box dumped out, I couldn’t deny it any longer.

Someone had broken into our apartment.

“Anything else missing?” Officer Mills asked, checking his report. “Electronics? Laptop? Cash?” I answered his questions mechanically while a detective dusted for fingerprints and snapped photos, and his partner interviewed the neighbors.

“No, I don’t think so…” Then I remembered. My iPad. I almost always took it to work, using it in my classes to show videos, enter grades, or plan lessons. But that day I didn’t need it and had left it home, plugged in next to my bed… I rushed back into my room. Of course, it was gone. That and one gold watch and two valuable necklaces of my roommate were all that were taken.

Finally the detective and the police officers left, my parents and the neighbors went home, and my roommate Maira and I were left alone in the house. Though we locked and barred all the doors and checked all the windows several times, I still didn’t feel safe. Strangers had broken into our home, rifled through our personal belongings, and stolen things from us! I tried to imagine them pulling socks and underwear out of my dresser, dumping out my desk drawers, escaping out the back door… It gave me chills.

Yes, I’ll double-check the doors tonight to make sure the deadbolt is secure. But I don’t have to live in fear. Because even if I get robbed again, I know my Daddy’s holding me. My peace is not dependent on my circumstances. It’s based on the security of my relationship with Him. And that’s never going to change.

Going Vertical!
MJ

“In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe.”
Psalm 4:8 (NLT)

When I hear friends talk about the “adrenaline rush” of running a half-marathon, I’m convinced that they’re not fully human. What normal human being would willingly put themselves through the punishing physical torture of pounding the pavement mile after mile? It’s not right.

Now I consider myself to be in pretty good shape. I rarely eat fried food, desserts, or red meat. I enjoy biking, or walking forest trails, and I have even been known to jump “double-dutch” with my students at recess! But recently I was appalled that my favorite black dress pants have started getting a wee bit too snug. So with the motivation of fitting in my bridesmaid’s dress for a friend’s wedding next month, I drag myself out of bed this Saturday morning, put on my tennis shoes, and head outside for some exercise.

There’s a refreshing hint of fall in the air, and I fill my lungs deeply as I start off on a light jog. After just a few minutes, however, I’m already panting for breath. I tell myself, “I’ll only go to the next lamp-post, and then I can stop.” But at the next lamp-post, I decide that I’ll go to the lake. “I’m almost to the end of this street,” I think when I get to the lake. “I’ll just round the corner and go a bit more.”

By this point, old ladies walking their poodles could easily overtake my painfully slow pace. And I avoid eye contact with any serious runners I encounter, embarrassed at my wheezing and puffing. My lungs feel like they’re going to explode, and my legs feel like jello.

Around the bend, I finally see it – the river pier. Out of somewhere deep within me comes a sudden final burst of energy. I find myself picking up the pace. “I’m almost there! I’m actually going to make it!” It seems there should be a marching band and helium balloons in honor of my accomplishment. At the end of the pier, I pause for a moment to soak in the morning sun sparkling over the still water. For one who despises running, I’ve just proven that miracles do happen – I CAN run.

Now this isn’t one of those underdog stories where I suddenly am able to compete in the Ironman triathlon. I doubt I’ll ever really ENJOY running. It still seems like cruel and unusual punishment. And it’s definitely not in my nature to keep doing something that’s painful and uncomfortable.

But I hate to say it – running is actually biblical. Paul writes in I Corinthians about “running to get the prize”. He says he “beats” or “punishes” his body, because it’s all part of his training (I Cor. 9:27). I can relate to that. Multiple times during my short run, I came very close to stopping. I started to feel sorry for myself, and felt like I “deserved” a break. It would have been so much easier to just stop.

Don’t we often feel that way when we’re faced with hard things? That nasty co-worker who seems set to make your life miserable. The difficult child who tests every boundary you set. The family member who knows exactly which buttons to push to get you riled up. Jesus never promised us that life would be easy. In fact, He assures us the opposite – “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33, NIV).

“Like an athlete I punish my body, treating it roughly, training it to do what it should, not what it wants to. Otherwise I fear that after enlisting others for the race, I myself might be declared unfit and ordered to stand aside.”
1 Corinthians 9:27 (TLB)

“So, what have you learned about Jesus today?” Ed, the leader of the small group Bible study, looks around the circle expectantly. The air conditioner hums. The girl from Kyrgyzstan fixes her eyes firmly on the carpet. The two Taiwanese girls intently study their printout of the story. The Polish girl twists her hands in her lap.

This handful of international students have come to learn more about who God is and what the Bible says. We’ve been looking at the story of Jesus healing a man with leprosy in Mark 1. While the guy from Ukraine seems to have had some exposure to the Bible, the girl from Kyrgyzstan said at the beginning that she didn’t know anything about Jesus. So we’ve been reading over the verses slowly, explaining words or concepts that may be new to non-English speakers.

Finally the enthusiastic young Ukrainian next to Ed speaks up. “I learned that Jesus can heal people. Just by touching him and speaking!” He beams at the rest of us. Others follow his lead.

“What about you, Andrea?” Ed asks. The tall blond girl from Poland had been eagerly asking questions during the study. Now her voice is quiet, slow.

“I feel… that Jesus is real.”

No one moves. I feel my heart pounding. My breathing sounds loud in the heavy silence.

“I don’t know why,” Andrea continues, as if she can’t believe it herself. “But right now, I feel that Jesus is real and He’s alive.”

After the study ends, Andrea seeks out one of the American college students to talk more. And that night Andrea makes the decision to give her life to Jesus.

When next week’s study comes around, Andrea excitedly flies around giving out the paperback New Testaments, drawing in people who are hanging around outside. Her excitement is contagious. “You need to come to this study! You need to read the Bible and learn about Jesus!”

No one has to ask Andrea to tell others what she’s experienced. She’s met Jesus, the One who shows compassion, the One who heals and transforms. And she wants to tell everyone about Him!

“As I watched my father’s mistress put her suitcases in his car, an animal rage came over me. I felt I could tear her apart with my hands.” Yagmur, tall and elegant with perfectly styled blond hair, spoke evenly to the audience in the church, but the pain of that childhood memory was evident. “That day I made a decision to hate my father for the rest of my life.”

Yagmur’s mother was also angry, and took out her anger in the form of physical abuse toward her daughter. “As a young girl, I had scars and bruises all over my body from my mother’s beatings. I hated my father for his unfaithfulness. And I hated my mother for her helplessness.”

“Every day my mother told me I was ugly and stupid,” Yagmur continued. “Faith comes through hearing. And I started to believe in what I was hearing.” Escaping to her room and pulling the blankets over her head, Yagmur would dream of being a beautiful princess in a long, sparkling gown. And she would imagine her mother and father smiling at her, proudly. She longed for their love.

Immediately after college, she married a charming and passionate young man, desperate to escape the abuse and pain of her home life. But soon another nightmare began. Her husband began beating her too, accusing her of unfaithfulness, demanding to know why she was a few minutes late coming home from work.

Then one day her husband held a knife to her throat, insisting that she jump out of an eighth-story window. Yagmur clung to his ankles, sobbing and pleading for her life until he let her go.

In desperation, Yagmur fled to the U.S. to start a new life. But when her second husband’s drug abuse got out of control, she found herself becoming more and more hopeless, wanting to end her life. “There is hatred and pain everywhere I go,” she thought in despair. “I can’t escape.”

Eventually Yagmur found a job working for a Christian company. Wanting to impress the boss, she joined the early-morning Bible study at the office. They were reading the story of Jesus’ encounter with the adulterous woman. Yagmur couldn’t help blurting out, “Why did he forgive her? She was not worthy to be forgiven!”

“None of us are worthy,” a co-worker explained. “But Jesus forgives us because he loves us. Even if that woman had been the only person on the earth, Jesus still would have come to earth for her and died in her place, because he loves her.”

“I was that unworthy woman,” she recalled. All the shame of her childhood, the memories of being called ugly and stupid, the feeling of being worthless, the abuse of her marriages, the abandonment and emptiness and thoughts of suicide – it all culminated one day in a desperate cry in the office restroom. “Help me, God! Have mercy! I need You!” As she dried her eyes and walked to her desk, she wondered if He even heard her.

Before she could even get back to work, Yagmur’s boss called her urgently to his office. “I’ve never done this before,” he explained hesitantly. “But I feel Jesus prompting me strongly that I need to tell you something. He says that He has heard your prayer in the bathroom. He saw you when you were a little girl. He’s been with you all this time. And He loves you and forgives you.”

Yagmur crumpled to the carpet, weeping. “Do you want Jesus to be your Lord and Savior?” Her boss was asking kindly. “YES! YES! YES!” She sobbed. Finally she had found the love she had been searching for.

Eventually Yagmur was able to forgive her father and mother for all the pain they caused her for so many years. And today Yagmur has a ministry of bringing hope and healing to girls and women around the world, through TV programming and radio broadcasts. “You are loved. You are valued. You are beautiful,” she tells them. “God has a plan for your future. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a future and a hope.” She knows it is true – she is living proof.

Going Vertical!
MJ

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name, you are mine.”
Isaiah 43:1b (NRSV)